Guardsman Lund Killin of the 6th Kroniteian Knights strapped on his bandolier of frag and melta bombs, checked his lasgun, tightend the straps of his armour and put his helmet on. He was one of the knights, one of the riders of the 6th Kroniteian. He walked over to his horse, which, was held by one of the low born footsloggers. The man was a grubby looking thing, but then, if he had been on foot in the mud, he would look the same Killin thought. As he mounted his horse and holstered his lasgun at the horse's rump the footslogger took up a explosive tipped lance and handed it to him. He nodded his thanks and trotted over to his squad.

Sergeant Major Hector Grunderman. leader of 3rd company's 1st platoon, it's only knightly platoon, looked over his men to make sure they were all there; they were. They were about to charge the ranks of the archfoe of human kind, Chaos. They had kept coming for the past three hours, and the knights were on their last packs of ammo. This last charge would decide their fates. He looked over at Lieutenant Frans Darker; seeing his state of his health, he shook his head. Darker had Green's Lung Rot, similar to the long dead disease known to historians as Tuberculosis. It made him cough up blood, twitch uncontrollably and break out in fevers that could last for days; in time he would need new lungs. He looked bad, pale and in the throes of a cold sweet; his blood shot eyes were half closed. Grunderman would not say anything about it, however, Darker had enough to fret about. He, then. saw the Lieutenant raise his sword arm, and drop it in the order to charge.

Killin slammed his looted stick bomb in to the face of a chaos cultist, and shoved him out of the way. The charge had stalled. They were now in a small block fighting for there lives, some were still mounted but most were on foot fighting with the footslogers. A cultist rushed forward trying to gut him with a long bladed knife. Killin stabbed him in the hip with the knife on his lasgun, then clubbed him in the head with the stick bomb. Then he heard him again, that damn powered armoured thing with the chain axe. The Chaos Marine ran head long in to the block of knights, chopping and hacking, slicing and dicing. As knights and footslogers began to die even faster fighting against the armoured beast, blood drenched the ground, limbs and heads were silced, guts were cut asunder. For the frist time in a long time, Killin begain to pray.

Grunderman was on his last legs. At the age of 55 he was not as spry as he used to be; he had taken a score of wounds that slowed him down even more. including one in his chest that bubbled and spat blood out of whenever he took a breath. He just hoped that help would come soon. Little did he know that it would. The 1st Kerns were on there way.

Ok heres a few things you did not know about the Ireblanders.All right frist off I forgot to say the the wars on the Knight's home world takes place 8 months after the Irebland reforms, and now much like Gaunt's Tanith the Ireblanders now have an instrumet, The Glack, it's just like a fiddle but smaller. There combatknifes are, like the Tanith blades, based of the real world Sgian dubh ceremonial dirk. Some also still where the tartan pants of the Gallowglasses and some also have kilts too, and the promanet pattern is red, yellow, blue and gray. There flack amour helmets are based of the real world British Brodie helmet. As for there Irebland pattern lasguns they are some what odd in the fact that they are short pattern wich is not so odd but they load from the left side rather than the underside and have what I call a beamspilter, wich, as you can guss makes the lasbeam cut in two. However this has the sidefect of makeing the beam going left and right or up and down, so as you can tell you have to have a large number of men on each side for this to work. So there you have it, hope it clears some things up. Oh and if your wondering what Cluckindub's power sword looks like, it looks just like a Basket-hilted Claymore.

Darker's power rapier flickered out and cut the fingers off a cultist. Then he jumped foward and stabbed the scum in the neck while clubbing another cultist in the face with his silver plated bolt pistol, which had long been out ammmunition, makeing the cultist fall back a step. Darker then stabed the cultist in the left eye. Another cultist came in and tried to shoot him at point blank, but Darker calmly cut the legs out from underneath him, sending him sprawling on his back; Darker stepped forward and crushed his windpipe. It was then that he felt the urge to cough...not good. He tried to hold it back. but the pain hit him; oh the pain, it felt like therewas an explosion in his chest. He fell back hacking and breathing hard. A few lowborn took his place in the line. A heavy solid slug round smacked in to his carapace chest plate and knocked him flat, making his feathered tricorn fall off into the mud. His vision was black and gray. The pain that was now forming at the base of his skull was so intence that he forgot he was coughing up blood all over his uniform. "Don't pass out now damn it! Your men need you!"It was then he saw the shapes of Guardsmen coming over the next hill.

"Charge!" Nel called, and the 1st Ireblanders blasted their way into the cultists. Nel chopped left and right, Cluckendub's power sword bringing death to the foe. Nel's laspistol flashing red, made fist sized craters in the cultists. Nel had a storm bolter, a lasgun, and a bolt pistol, but he found he could depend on his laspistol more than the others. Fisher was running beside him carrying the 2nd Company's standard, his Medallion Crimson beating his right brest, Nel could hear the mechanical whirr of his new hip and the buzz of his chain sword as he hacked left and right. He just hoped all this las and slug fire would be the least of their problems. Then he saw his the power armoured bastard."Fisher! I want your melta on that Khorne Marine now! I'll take the banner"Fisher handed him the banner as he brought up his melta and fired.The melta blast took the Chaos Marine full in the chest. Power armour was good, but even it couldn't take a full melta blast. The Khorne Marine just stood there it's chest a ruin of slag, a sick looking Kronitian lieutenant cut it's head off with a power rapier. The cultists ran.

Hoped you liked it. I think this one is the best yet. What do you guys think? dwi

Nel walked back to his tent, he was tired, sore and quite frankly mad. He had just been with his Colonel Frank Grundesh Kelsman ans Captain Lisa Greks, at a senior officer's metting with Kroniteia high command. The high command was made up of:High Knight Marshal Olber Von Ottokenth of the 1st Kroniteian Knights he also had over all command of the other Knights and PDF on Kroniteia, Artur Willinsley Ducan Wableton who was now also General of the 1st Irebland Gallowglasses and Brigadier Ron Nack of the 11th Kadjun Swamp Rats. There was ofcourse no man on High Command to speak for the 1st Kerns, as, they wher all mostly low born with less than 20% being of noble blood. When he had enters the Command bunker, HA!, command bunker indeed! That was a hoot! It was no more that a big hotel with good drink and maps all over the place! He had looked around and was that all the other senior commanders were there as well, he had sighed at that point, the Kerns were late the last to arive, something els for the blue bloods to look down on them for. He saw all the High command officers standing around a table with dattaslates and maps all over it. Looking at them he had new cause to be scared about the outcome of the war with these men at the helm ship as it were.Olber was a fat pompass pig in his late 70s by the look of him. He had never even seen a battle field in his life Nel would bet, his bright golden ceremonial carapace armour that could not stop an aoutogun round was covered with medals most if not all were all self awarded."This man is a narcissistic, centi-credit pinching miser for the Emperor's sake!What the hell is a man like this doing in command!?"Then again, when he looked over at the other Kroniteian officers and saw the same stuff in most of them too. There where a few exceptions who looked like they knew what they were doing but not many."It's a wonder this world has not fallen yet" He thoughtHe then looked over at Wableton. He new that man was a fool at the best of times, all you had to do was take a look at Falsa Primeus to see the man's less than great leadership skills, that world should have been won within a few years in stead it had taken ten! Nel had been just a humble cropral when he had first stepped on the world, Clukendub had just been a sub-liuetenant at the time as well."And this bastard is just plain stuped! How the hell did he make general anyway?"He was somewhat happy to now that the 1st Gallowglasses Captain Hedor and Major Bell were compatent even if there commander was not.He then took a look at Nack. Right from the start Nel could tell that the Swamp Rat was way out of his depth. His other senior officers looked the same."What are they even doing here? There swamp and jungle fighters for the love of the Emperor! What? They just threw a bunch on regimental names in to to a helmet and drew these guys?"The farming world of Kronitea was no place for these men.By the time that the meating was over Nel had seen nothing much change in the battle plan. Just send the Kerns the Rats and the PDF let them get all shot up then let the all blue bloods in the Kinghts and Gallowglasses swoop in and take oll the golry! Scum! He hoped they all burned alive!Just as he reached his tenk Fisher walked up"What?" Nel said"I here that the Colonel of the 6th Knights wants to see me and you"Nel sighed "Never a dull moment is there?"

Nice dwi. You should continue to post on the Death Squads Forum, where you got a more (40k) captive audience. CAPTIVE? WAR? GET IT? Ohhh... why do I bother.

I did like the sense of hopelessness the Olber gave to the whole situation... it seems obvious everyone was thinking they were already dead. HA!

On the constructive criticism side, the writing has LOTS of orthographical and grammatical errors. They make the text harder to read, to the point that it becomes a struggle, specially for people whose first language is not English (like me!) This is easily fixable... just copy & paste in MS Word, and let the spell check do the work. Take 95% of the stuff.

Nel walked back to his tent, he was tired, sore and quite frankly mad. He had just been with his Colonel Frank Grundesh Kelsman, and Captain Lisa Greks, at a senior officer's meeting with Kroniteia high command. The HighCommand was made up of High Knight Marshal Olber Von Ottokenth of the 1st Kroniteian Knights who also had over all command of the other Knights, and PDF on Kroniteia, Artur Willinsley Ducan Wableton, who was now also General of the 1st Irebland Gallowglasses, and Brigadier Ron Nack of the 11th Kadjun Swamp Rats. There was, of course, no man on High Command to speak for the 1st Kerns as they where all mostly low born with less than 20% being of noble blood.When he had entered the Command bunker. Ha, command bunker indeed; that was a hoot! It was no more that a big hotel with good drink and maps all over the place. He had looked around; all the other senior commanders were there. He had sighed at that point. The Kerns were late, the last to arrive, something else for the blue bloods to look down upon. He saw all the High command officers standing around a table with data slates and maps all over it. Looking at them, he had new cause to be scared about the outcome of the war with these men at the helm ship, as it were.Olber was a fat pompous pig in his late 70s by the look of him. He had never even seen a battle field in his life Nel would bet; his bright golden ceremonial carapace armor, that could not stop an autogun round was covered with medals, most of which, if not all were all self awarded."This man is a narcissistic, centi-credit pinching miser for the Emperor's sake! What the hell is a man like this doing in command!?"Then again, when he looked over at the other Kroniteian officers, he saw the same stuff in most of them too. There were a few exceptions; men looked like they knew what they were doing, but not many."It's a wonder this world has not fallen yet"he thought.He then looked over at Wableton. He new that man was a fool at the best of times. All you had to do was take a look at Falsa Primeus to see the man possesses less than great leadership skills, that world or should have been won within a few years; it had taken ten. Nel had been just a humble corporal when he had first stepped on the world, Clukendub had just been a sublieutenant at the time as well."And this bastard is just plain stuped! How the hell did he make general anyway?"He was somewhat happy to now that the 1st Gallowglasse's Captain Hedor, and Major Bell were competent even if their commander was not.He then took a look at Nack. Right from the start Nel could tell that the Swamp Rat was way out of his depth. His other senior officers looked the same."What are they even doing here? They're swamp and jungle fighters for the love of the Emperor! What? They just threw a bunchof regimental names in to to a helmet and drew these guys?"The farming world of Kronitea was no place for these men.By the time that the meeting was over, Nel had seen nothing much change in the battle plan. Just send in the Kerns, the Rats, and the PDF. Let them get all shot up. Then let the all blue bloods in the Knights and Gallowglasses swoop in, and take all the glory. Scum! He hoped they all burned alive!Just as he reached his tent, Fisher walked up. "What?" Nel said."I hear that the Colonel of the 6th Knights wants to see me and you."Nel sighed. "Never a dull moment is there?"

So you can get a better idea about the number of misspells in the text, when I proof read the piece, I put the corrections in italics. As far as receiving comments, you have go go on an "ars gratia artis" (art for the sake of art) philosophy. If you're looking for positive feedback, it frequently is not going to be forthcoming from a group of guys that are into the gaming/hobby aspect more than the fluff...the Shout It Out section is the backwater of the Forum. Also, if the Guys don't like the piece, rather than leave a negative comment, they tend to not comment at all.I generally & genuinely like your prose. The more you practice; the better you'll become.

_________________"I'd NEVER join a club that would have me as a member." Groucho Marx

Thanks Deaf! GODS! Your right! Then again I just wright off the seat of my pants with no set gole in mind when I put this stuff up and that fact means that with no draft OR proof reading it gos bad. I don't how good it would be if I put 100% of my brain power in to it in stead of my normal 30%. Thats right! The whole story so far is only 30% of my story wrighting skill! Not bad eh?

So over all what do you think of the story so far Deaf? You can leave negative/CC coments as well

Oh and I am going to put a guardsman in the story inspired by you as a reward for helping me. That is if you don't mind

Thanks Deaf! GODS! Your right! Then again I just wright off the seat of my pants with no set gole in mind when I put this stuff up and that fact means that with no draft OR proof reading it gos bad. I don't how good it would be if I put 100% of my brain power in to it in stead of my normal 30%. Thats right! The whole story so far is only 30% of my story wrighting skill! Not bad eh?

So over all what do you think of the story so far Deaf? You can leave negative/CC coments as well

Oh and I am going to put a guardsman in the story inspired by you as a reward for helping me. That is if you don't mind

Since I'm painted on the wall over here ( :p )... and you took rather well someone pointing exactly all the grammar issues, here you got some more from your previous post. What I was saying, regarding the misspellings... there is no excuse. You can see writing fiction just as painting models. If you take a model and dunk it on paint, then smear 2 other colors... you can't honestly expect it to be any good. Using 30% of your painting potential will always yield mediocre results. If putting no effort at all allows you to produce 30% of your capacity, it means you ARE good... but you need to get your lazy ass in gear! Train yourself so the 'no effort' yield 95% of your capacity! It is YOUR art! Start with every post... after you write, read it! Make corrections. Take pride in your written word.

Take the great painters and sculptors here... Tom, DeafNala, Foot_of_adhesive_tape, Skavenblight, cianty... when have you seen ANY of them producing a awful model? I would kill to produce anything they would judge themselves as 'bad'. Their 'minimal' efforts are done with pride and patience, so when they have to put 'real' effort on a piece, they go off the charts. Why would YOU be any different? Is your ART less, because you write? I don't think so. The story is good and engaging, but few people will actually come to dinner if the table is setup inside a locked vault. Spelling & grammar are the basic techniques, while structure and style the advanced ones. Da Bank said the same thing long time ago, and you got pretty upset. Please, don't get mad at me.

So stop making excuses... from now on, take great strides to make even the most insignificant post and opportunity to strengthen your weakness... spelling & grammar. Just like I take every opportunity to practice my sculpting skills (so one day I can sit at the shadows of Foot_of_adhesive_tape) and painting techniques (so one day I may twitch someone's eye as Deafnala's work moves my soul)... YOU need to put the effort.

Hey guys! I just got the writeing bug and pulled this of the seat of my pants right now so I thought I would post it

****

Part IV (Con)All Nel could do was grumble as he walked over the 1st's muddy camp grounds in the the slums of the city in wich the armys were camped to the 6th's well mantained blockhouse and court yard. Thats what the 6th called it anyway, to Nel and Fisher it looked like a fragen mansion, in fact it WAS a mansion! All Nel and Fisher could do was look up in at it tall walls and towering roofs. As they got closer they could see a low square stone wall around the place and two man made hills on the right and left sids of the mansion they could see short wach towers with heavy bolters on top for defence. At each corner of the wall there was a haevy stubber nest with sand bags and razer wire. At eash nest there were four Kroniteian guardsmen two to man the heavy stubber, one to use a grenade launcher and to use a lasgun.As ther walked threw the gate Fisher leaned in close to Nel"Not much in the way of heavy weapons eh sir?" he said"No" Nel replied"I sure would not want to defend this place under a heavy chaos attack, thw walls are to low, the towers are to short, and heavy bolters arn't going to do squat against a drednought gone bad and I don't even wanna start on the heavy stubbers""I here that" Nell saidFisher just grunted"Right let's go see what the blue blood wants" Nell said

****

Colonel Ronald .F. Lipsman of the 6th Kroniteian Knights look at the to Ireblanders be for him.He was unimpressedTo him they looked like glorified lowborn wich if there papers were right they were!The thought of peasants becomeing offercers or even NCOs made him sick. Most sergants and corprals in the Knights were nobles born to lesser famileys it was rare for any low born to reach corpral let alone sergeant. The only lowborne sergant he knew of was his own sergant major Grunderman. He had been loath to promote the little man. That bastard had even been alowed to ride a horse, what was worse, was that some of the younger nobles looked up to him as a father! The nerve!Other high born gave him dirty looks at get togethers, scoffed behind his back, and looked down on him the little ungreatfull, whore son, bastard was a shame, a huge black stain on his honor. Even worse was the fact that he WAS a good NCO! He knew that if that little bastard thet little peon did any better he would have to promote him again! The thought made him want to throw up.

In the mean time he would have to deal with the scum he had wanted to thank for saveing his men. However much he did not like it honor and protocall demanded it.

****

They were there to be thanked for saveing the 6th's 3hrd company so this fool said. Fisher knew he was a fool the mement he looked at him. Like so many other Kroniteian offecers he was a ass in the extrem. All silver, brass and fat."I bet this bastard has not even picked up a lasgun in years" Fisher thought."...... and so as thanks for saveing my men" he was saying "I here by presenent to you Major Brasker Nel and Corpral Harlan Fisher of the Irebland 1st Kerns with the Kroniteian medel of kinship."As he pinned the heavy medals to Nel and Fisher's left brest pockets, Fisher could tell that he mad at him self for doing so.All Fisher knew was makeing a noble angry was bad. Very bad indeed

When the scum had left Lipsman's face a turned beat red. The looks on their ugly, low born faces, the.... the way they stood there; the way they seemed to think that they SHOULD have those medals!

"Bastards!" He thought to himself as he stood in the command center's dining hall. He now not only had Grunderman to worry about but those two as well. As he look around he saw more than a few dirty looks shot his way. That made him even angrier, making him grip his wine glass so hard he feared that he may have spider-webbed the glass. He had to stop the bullshit before it got worse.

Just as the germ of an idea came to mind a thunderous boom came from the head table as the High Knight Marshal began to speak

****Not much of an update I know. but that's all I can post right now.

Well at least you enjoy working with me. I should give you a medal for all this, putting up with all my shitty writing and all.

Part IV (cont..)

***High Knight Marshal Ottokenth stood up from his table and raised his glass of wine."To Krontieia!", he called. "To the Emperor!""To Kroniteia!", the gathered officers called back, standing and raising their glasses."To the Emperor!""My fellow warriors," Ottokenth began. "I am thrilled to stand, feast and talk with such fine heroes, here tonight"A few officers clapped."Thank you all for aiding our home world in this time of need." he said.There were cheers at this."I would also like to thank our fellow guardsmen in the 1st Gallowglasses for coming to aid us just after a ten year war."There was light clapping at this, and Wabbleton nodded his head in thanks.Almost nobody seemed to take notice that Ottokenth did not thank the low born in the Kerns and Swamp rats. He did not even mention Nel and Fisher."Now before we talk, let's eat!!!"

***Nel ate slowly at the quivering brownish red mass in front of him, which was VERY unappetizing. He was unwilling to eat any more than he had to."Real bad stuff, eh?" said a noble voice behind him.Nel turned to face a tall, thin, Kroniteian lieutenant with a pale face, long pony tail and thick goatee. The same lieutenant he had seen kill the Khorne marine."Yah. What is it?" he asked."Lightly steamed Grox heart with jellied liver stuffing." the lieutenant said, as he sat down beside Nel. "I'm Lieutenant Darker by the way.""I know my boys and I pulled your ars out of the fire." Nel said."Yes, you did. Thank you." Nel almost dropped his fork. He had not heard a thank you in a long time from a blue blood."Just following my orders." Nel said."Well, never the less I and my men thank you, Major..... I'm sorry I don't know your name." Darker said. Then a strange look on his face. Maybe he had acid reflux."Nel, Major Brasker Nel." Darker was about to reply but Nel added, "but plese call me Brasker"Darker gave him a strange look."I see" he said. "Calling people by given name is nor common with my people forgive me if I slip from time to time. Very well then Brasker call me Frans."He and Nel then slipped into talk about their home worlds and people. This talk continued until the battle talks where called.